


The Long Way

by writewithurheart



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agent Carter is canon, Epilogue, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene, Multi, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Spoilers, Steve through the years, an expanded take on that last scene, and how it can make sense in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18637306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: It takes Steve Rogers awhile, but he gets there.Or the missing scenes where he says goodbye, hello, and lives an entire life.





	1. Goodbye, My Love

**Author's Note:**

> The missing conversations we don't get before and between the last scene.

**Goodbye, My Love**

Bucky would say it's been a long time since he saw Steve beat up this badly, blood dried on his face, bruises forming under delicate Irish skin, but the truth is that this is how he remembers Steve.

The iconic shield is smashed, broken, and half of what it used to be. It lays on the table, covered in dirt and blood, a testament to its years spent protecting people.He taps it with a vibranium finger which produces a clear, ringing note. Even broken, it hums under his touch. Bucky smiles. It's like him, like Steve, like all of this motley crew of self-proclaimed heroes: broken but still beautiful.

"Shuri offered to fix it," Steve says suddenly from the kitchen where he leans on the counter. He looks tired. And older.

Bucky nods. He doesn't know what he wants to say. He's seen Steve at his fiercest, at his weakest. He's never seen Steve this tired. Exhaustion radiates from him. He might not know what changed but he knows that Steve's fight is over. He's picked up the shield for the last time.

"So what now, punk?"

Steve swallows roughly, sorrow in his eyes. "I can't keep doing this, Buck."

"I know, Stevie."

"I want…"

Bucky leaves the shield on the table and turns to fully face his best friend. "I'm not the same person I used to be." He has to say the words. Even as Steve shakes his head to deny it, Bucky knows it's true. "All the things I did... I'm not the same. And you're not either."

Steve closes his mouth at that observation but doesn't speak.

"Your fight is over, pal, but I've got more to do. I've got red in my ledger. Figure I should do something about it."

Tears gather in Steve's eyes. "Nat-"

"Natalia knew what she was doing." Bucky pinches his nose to try to relieve the sudden building headache. "I knew her before. In Russia. Trained her. Might have even loved her…"

"Buck…"

He shakes his head. "She knew Steve. She would have never left the planet, never travelled through time without knowing those risks. She knew she would die and she chose it."

"She deserved better. It should have been me."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Of course she did, pal. She deserved happiness but she chose this path so that Clint could find his family, so everyone could come home. Respect her decision."

Steve scowls, hand clenching around the counter hard enough that his knuckles turn white.

Another sigh. "She used to visit me in Wakanda, you know."

He blinks in surprise and Bucky grins.

"We would talk through things. It helped. She didn’t need to, not after everything, but it helped."

Steve still struggles with it clearly in the twitching of his facial muscles. "I can't lose anyone else, Buck."

He nods. "We can handle it from here."

Steve crosses to the broken shield and picks it up. He considers it for a moment and turns to Bucky. "It's yours now."

Bucky raises an eyebrow and snorts. "You're an idiot."

"There's no one else I'd rather take up the shield."

"I'll watch his back, Steve, but we both know it's not mine." As much as he teases Sam and calls him names, he knows a capable leader when he sees one. Hell, Sam is the least damaged person he knows. There's not many people who could hold that shield as far as Bucky's concerned. It's like that fucking hammer: they have to be worthy.

“Sam is…”

“He’s good people,” Buck finishes for Steve.

Steve nods and takes a deep breath, that one he always took before making a big decision. He straightens his spine, stands tall, and demands the world move to accommodate him. The memories bloom in Bucky’s mind like an old video: Steve’s response to Bucky enlisting, the moment before he kissed Bucky for the first time, the look on his face when Philips questioned the team he picked.

“We’re going to be fine, pal.”

“I have to return the stones.” Steve says. His hand flips his compass open and closed, a nervous gesture Bucky remembers from the Howling Commando days. A too-distant memory.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. He covers Steve’s hand and the compass with his own flesh and bone hand: “and then you’re going to go get our girl.”

“Buck…”

Bucky smiles. “You’re already thinking it, punk. Have been for a long time. You earned it. Go. Find her and live, Steve. Settle down. Get your dance. Kiss her for me.”

Steve closes his eyes and leans forward to press his forehead to Bucky’s. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Bucky blinks back tears. His metal hand lands on Steve’s cheek. “The future needs me. Who else will keep these assholes in line?”

“I’m sorry, Buck. If I could stay…”

“You say that like you’re never going to see me again,” Bucky says with a grin. “You’re just going to take the long way back.”

Steve blinks his eyes open in surprise.

Bucky grins, chuckles at his confusion. “My first couple weeks after DC were rough but there was this tough old bastard who would come around and talk to me. Seemed to think we could be friends.” His thumb rubs circles over Steve’s cheek remembering it with more wrinkles. “Then he started following me around the world like he knew exactly where I was going to be. So annoying, I figured he could only be one person.”

Steve’s laugh is an explosion, complete with tears as he collapses back against the counter. “You knew.”

Bucky smiles a little sadly. “I put the pieces together eventually. You’re still a punk, Stevie, but we meant it: Til the end of the line.”

“I saw her,” Steve confesses. “When we went to get the Tesseract in 1970.”

“How did she look?”

His hand rubs over the closed compass like it was stroking her picture. “Beautiful.”

Bucky smiles. He takes a deep breath and reaches into his pocket. His hand wraps around the tags in his pocket and pulls them out. He weighs them in his hand for a moment, feeling the chain shift with the movement of his hand before he lifts it up. Steve follows the movement as Bucky lets them unravel and hands them around Steve’s neck. They fall to the middle of his chest. Steve lifts a hand up to clench the old dog tags with that number he would repeat on loop while strapped to that damn table every single time Zola tore him apart.

It’s the past.

“Do me a favor: name a kid after me.”

“Bucky-”

“Nah. Call him James. Tell Peggy I love her.”

“You could come with me.”

Bucky doesn’t bother acknowledging that. “Don’t go looking for me. The Soldier isn’t me. The future still needs to happen. Read enough books to know that.”

“Peggy would be happy to see you.”

“The two of you are going to have a little yellow house with a white picket fence and you’re going to let her boss ya around. You’ll be a great dad.  You’ll adopt a bunch of neighborhood kids. Get a dog. ”

It would be easy to follow Steve into that machine, to jump back in time, but it wouldn’t be right. He’s still got red in his ledger, Nat wiped hers, and now he needs to finish his. And these idiots really are going to need someone to keep them on the right path.

Steve reaches for the shield again. “Sure Sam will take it?”

Bucky scoffs, “Course he will.”

“Think he can handle it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he can.” He pauses. “I’d get Shuri to fix it up first." 

...


	2. Hello, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding Peggy Carter

**Hello, My Love**

He saves the Tesseract for last. He returns the soul stone first so he can say goodbye to Natasha, and nearly loses it when he sees the Red Skull again. Next is the power stone, the ether (he has to leave the hammer behind there), and then he returns to New York.

The blue cube is only one left. He could have traded his stars and stripes for a less flashy uniform like he did last time, ventured down to the lab and returned it to the moment it left. Instead he stands on the steps of a small yellow house. He has a bouquet of flowers in his hand. His shield leans against the wall. The Tesseract has its own lunch tin resting on the painted wood of the porch. According to Carol Danvers, the cube ends up in the hands of a Kree scientist sometime in the 1980s. It’s the only stone that they couldn’t confirm returns to the same spot. 

So Steve’s here, back in 1956, standing on a porch, with a bouquet of flowers, hoping he’ll get a warm welcome, that Bucky didn’t lie to him about this. 

The door is solid under his knuckles and the knock seems to echo in the world, his future hanging on each moment of silence that follows. 

Maybe he should have aimed for later in the day. It’s early morning. Early enough that the birds are singing and the rest of the world is quiet. Peaceful. It feels...right He was worried it wouldn’t, worried that he would get here and realize it was a mistake. 

His ears pick up footsteps and Steve realizes he doesn’t know if she lives alone or not. He has a moment to panic, to run through everything that could go wrong - Maybe there’s a fiance, a husband, a kid, maybe she’ll shoot him again or maybe she’ll think he’s not real - and then the door is opening. He should have done more research. 

Steve holds his breath as the door swings open and his heart drops when the face isn’t the familiar one he wants. She’s shorter, hair a lighter brown, and eyes a bright blue. She stops short when her eyes take in the gaudy uniform. She smirks at him and Steve is reminded instantly of Bucky’s charm as she leans against the doorframe with a: 

“Hello, Captain!” And a leer. 

It startles a laugh from Steve. 

“Hello, Ma’am. I’m looking for Peggy Carter.” 

The woman huffs. “You sure, sugar? I’ve seen her beat up bigger men for wearing that suit.” 

Steve grins. “I’m sure they deserved it.” 

She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “And who are you?” 

“Captain Steve Rogers.” 

“Cute,” she comments acerbically. “You’re really askin’ to be shot, mister.” She sizes him up for another moment before leaning back and saying, “It’s for you, English.” 

“If it’s Daniel, just tell him to come inside!” 

“Not Daniel.” 

“Then tell Howard it is my day off. Just because he has no sense of time-” 

“Not Howard either,” Steve shouts back, lips already stretching to a smile at that accent that he hasn’t heard in years. 

From the depths of the house, he hears a crash and the woman in the door straightens. “You alright, English?” 

Steve straightens as he hears footsteps and then she’s there. That same dark brown hair, pinned back and curling down past her shoulders. She’s already dressed for the day: a blouse and loose fitting pants and he doesn’t know that he’s ever seen her look so beautiful. 

She stops in the doorway and her hands fly to her open mouth. 

“Sorry I missed our date,” Steve says with a smile. 

Peggy makes a noise that sounds like a sob and then she’s running. Steve passes off the flowers to the other woman so he can catch Peggy as she jumps into his arms, solid and warm and whole. It’s been ten years. 

He holds her tighter to his chest, spinning them slowly in a circle until he puts her down lightly on her feet. His hand brushes a loose curl from her face as he cups her cheeks. “Sorry it took so long.” 

Her hands fist in his uniform as her eyes roam all over him. “It’s really you?” 

All he can do is nod. 

“How?” 

“It’s a long story.” Her eyes are pulling him in again, so bright and intelligent. “You’re beautiful.” 

“Steve-” 

His thumb brushes over her face, drifting down to run over her bright red lips. “Do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now?” 

“What are you waiting for, soldier?” 

“Savoring the moment,” Steve answers before slowly lowering his head and kissing her again for the first time in ten years. If it was ever chaste, it moves past that point almost immediately, mimicking their last kiss in intensity. Lips part, tongues meld and they sink into each other like they were never really apart. 

Steve isn’t sure if he pulls her closer or if she pulls him, but they’re pressed together, hands moving as if to ensure that this is real, that the other is truly there. She tastes like home, like all the things he lost because of the ice, like all the memories he could never fully recapture. 

“Ahem.” 

A younger Steve would have blushed. As it is, Steve just lowers Peggy back to the floor again and looks over at the other woman standing in the door. Peggy’s the one who shakes her head as if finally coming to her sense, cheeks slightly flushed and lipstick smeared. 

“Right, we should...inside.” 

Steve smiles and lets Peggy tug him through the door, but he stops to reach back for the shield and the lunch box. The door closes behind him and the three of them are left in the hallway, standing awkwardly for a moment until a kettle screeches down the hall. 

“I’ll just go grab the tea, then, huh, English,” the woman says with a smirk. “Maybe put these in some water and then you can introduce me to the good captain.” She winks and saunters down the hall with the flowers. 

Steve chuckles. “I meant to give those to you.” 

Peggy rests a hand on his cheek with a smile. “Having you back is all I need, darling.” 

He kisses her again, lightly. “I missed you so much, Peg.” 

That seems to remind her that she’s missing some information. She taps his cheek lightly and steps back with a deep breath. “Ten years is a long time, soldier.” 

He nods. 

“Where have you been?” 

He grins. 

… 

“I’m from the future.”

Peggy doesn’t usually mimic Howard’s vices, but Steve’s story seems to require it. She pours a little whiskey into her tea as she stares at the device Steve placed on the table in front of her. Angie had brought the tea into the sitting room and then disappeared out the door in a dizzying declaration of the sudden need to shop. 

“Are you staying?” That seems to be the most important question, the one she absolutely needs the answer to. 

“If you’ll have me,” Steve responds softly, as if she would ever say no. 

Peggy brushes the dust off her pants as she stands. “Then I suppose I better phone Mr. Jarvis to bring over some clothes because you can’t go around wearing that awful thing all the time.” 

He smiles and her heart swells with joy. She watches him carefully as she waits for the call to go through as he wanders around her room, looking at photos and smiling at the flag and picture of him in the corner. He glances at her when he sees the picture of him while in boot camp and she bites her lip. 

“Ms. Carter?” 

She shakes her head. Phone call. Right. “Mr. Jarvis.” Much of the conversation she can’t remember, her eyes on Steve as he pull apart the top of his uniform to reveal a plain white shirt. Perhaps she shouldn’t be as fixated as she’s seen him in less, but the sight is enough to make her a bit cotton-headed and she gets off the phone as quickly as possible. 

He turns to ask her a question, but she pulls him down into a kiss instead. She keeps it short because they really need to talk, but she can’t resist. His hands land on her hips and it takes all of her restraint to end the kiss. 

“The future?” Her voice is still breathy and doesn’t sound quite right. 

She opens her eyes to Steve’s nod. His eyes haven’t left her face and he’s staring at her like she’s the most precious thing in the world. “Right now, I’m in the ice.” 

Ice? 

“Somewhere in the arctic. In 2011, someone stumbles on the wreck of the Valkyrie, and they defrosted me.” 

“You’re alive?” Her heart beats faster. She’s the one who convinced Howard to stop looking, that it didn’t matter because Steve was dead. It’s her fault that he won’t be found- 

“Peg,” he says urgently, tilting her head up so she meets his eyes. “I’m fine or I will be. SHIELD will find me. I’m lost for awhile, but the future needed me.” 

“And now you’re back,” she whispers. “For how long?” 

“I meant what I said earlier, Director Carter.” She shivers at his voice as it drops lower and he steps closer. “I’m back for as long as you want me.” He holds up a small red vial. “It can take me back, but, if you’re willing, I’d rather take the long way.” 

She frowns. “The long way?”

“Yeah, the growing old way.” 

“What about the future?” 

“It’s in good hands.” 

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Steve's Second Life


	3. The Long Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve lives and takes the long way back to Bucky, Sam, and that park bench.

**The Long Way**

Jarvis stares at the man in Peggy’s living room and just blinks. 

It’s all he can do. 

He’s never met Steve Rogers in person, having not worked with Mr. Stark’s war efforts, but he can recognize the man from the pictures he’s seen and from the way Howard will sometimes wax poetic about his achievement in human evolution. Edwin is fairly certain that only one man would manage to wear such a bright outfit with such poise and that man is sitting before him, drinking tea, with a faint smear of red lipstick on the corner of his mouth. 

“The clothes, Mr. Jarvis.” 

He blinks and hands the bag to Peggy in shock. “Is that-” 

She sighs. “Edwin Jarvis, Steve Rogers. Steve, Mr. Jarvis works for Howard Stark. I trust him with my life.” 

Steve Rogers stands and holds out his hand. Jarvis is a little overwhelmed with the whole over the top American iconography. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Jarvis.” 

“Finally?” 

The man smiles, but doesn’t elaborate. “Thank you for bringing clothes. I hated this outfit the first time I wore it and it really doesn’t improve with age.” He grimaces and then disappears up the stairs at Peggy’s direction. 

Jarvis looks between the two of them. “That’s…” 

“Yes,” Peggy says with a smile. “It really is.” 

“How? Mr. Stark-” 

“Doesn’t know,” Peggy finishes. She hands him a cup of tea and Edwin sips it subconsciously as he turns back to Peggy. “I suppose we’ll have to tell him eventually.” 

“He’ll be delighted. Captain America has returned.” 

“He hasn’t.” 

Edwin blinks and turns to the voice. Steve Rogers has rejoined them. The spectacularly gawdy uniform is neatly folded in his arms screaming to the opposite of his statement. 

“Captain America is someone created by the press. I didn’t come back for that.” 

“Then what did you come back for, sir, if you don’t mind my asking?” 

He smiles at Peggy and Edwin understands. He’s seen the lengths Peggy will go to to keep Steve’s memory alive and well. It’s nice to know that someone else will do the same for her. 

“I see,” Edwin says a little too loudly to break their staring into each other’s eyes. “And what will you tell the press when they see you? What will you tell Howard?” 

Steve shrugs and reaches out to Peggy, who in turn tucks herself under his arm. “Whatever we have to say. Peggy’s in charge of a spy agency. If they can’t keep a secret they wouldn’t be very good at their jobs.” 

“He’ll need papers, then, I suppose,” Jarvis sighs. “And we’ll have to do something about his hair.” 

“I’ll grow a beard.” 

Jarvis blinks in surprise and tries to imagine the man with facial hair and fails. 

“I think you’ll look dashing,” Peggy says, hand running over his cheek. 

“Will it be enough?” Jarvis wonders aloud. 

Peggy grins. “Perhaps.” 

“I just won’t wear red, white, or blue,” Steve adds with a mischievous grin. “Stick to oranges and greens. Purple would just be too close.” He blinks like he just got an idea. “I’ll be an Irish flag. No one will see it coming.” 

Jarvis blinks, stupefied at the statement and Peggy snorts. 

She pats him on the chest. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, darling.” 

“Perhaps a change of name,” Edwin suggests. 

“I’ve always liked the name Grant Carter.” 

Jarvis wonders if Steve Rogers will ever not surprise him. He expected the man to be more serious. 

“Or Steve Carter. Roger Carter. If you’ll have me?” He looks hopefully at Peggy. 

Jarvis gasps. “Oh my.” 

“Steve…” 

He pulls an object from his pocket. “I hadn’t planned on asking this soon, but…” 

Jarvis quietly excuses himself with a smile. On his way out, he runs into Angie and offers her a guest room for the night. It seems Mr. Rogers and Ms. Carter are in need of some time.

… 

It’s not the wedding Angie herself would want, but it’s perfect for Peggy and Steve. It’s small, just those who know that Steve Carter was once Steve Rogers. His beard, although not quite in fashion, is definitely a good disguise. Angie tried to help by offering him glasses. When pressed, she pulled out the latest Superman comics, and they had a good laugh over the joke. 

She likes seeing Peggy happy. Her heart melts as they sway slowly in the middle of their living room to the low croon of the radio. Ten years ago, she met Peggy as just another hard working woman who lost her man in a bloody war. She had hoped she would move on and find happiness, but Angie likes this better. It’s a beautiful ending to a beautiful story. Or rather, the beginning of a new one. 

… 

It starts when Peggy comes home late on the anniversary of their missed date. She doesn’t realize the significance at first. She comes home to a dark house and assumes Steve is already asleep. She unlocks the door as quietly as she can, wary of the creak in the hinge if she opens it too far. 

There’s a glow down the hallway from candles. She frowns halfway through the door. The nearest candle sits on the table in the entryway. Peggy eases her way into the room, closing and locking the door behind her. Her briefcase and coat are discarded as she frowns at the candle and the note. From the back of the house, she hears the soft strains of music, the brass of big bands that brings a smile to her lips. 

The note is scrawled in Steve’s elegant hand:  _ I owe you a dance. _

She grins and follows the wafting notes through to the softly lit room. He’s cleared the center of the room and set a table for two over in the corner. The radio is playing, and now she can hear little sounds from the kitchen. 

Peggy turns as Steve pushes through the door with a smile. 

“Welcome home,” he says, leaning forward for a kiss. She tries to deepen it, but Steve pulls away quickly to deposit the plates in his hand on the table. “I didn’t want the food to get cold.” 

She hums in agreement. “Can I get a proper kiss now?” 

He laughs and wanders back into her arms. She squeals as he pulls her into a dip and lays one on her. “How’s that for a proper kiss?” 

She smiles sadly and pulls him closer to start a slow sway to the music. “Reminds me of the time Bucky tried to teach you to dance.” 

Steve snorts. “It was an excuse to dance with you.” 

It’s moments like this when she feels his absence most. She leans her head on Steve’s shoulder. “I know. I miss him.” 

Steve pauses a beat and resumes his sway. 

She pulls back. “What? Steve?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispers. “We can’t change it.” 

“What do you know, Steve?” She’s careful not to ask too much about the future. 

He sighs but doesn’t break the rhythm of the dance. “Bucky isn’t dead.” 

Peggy jerks back. “What? Steve, that’s not possible.” 

“You can’t ask me how, but he’s alive.” 

“Where-” 

“You can’t ask me that either, Love. I promised...I promised to let the future happen.” 

Peggy steps back. “How? How could you do that? If he’s out there-” 

“He’s not Bucky!” 

She jumps at the shout, surprised by the sudden burst of anger, but it cools quickly. 

Steve runs a hand through his hair. “He’s not our Bucky, not now. He asked to stay behind, which is why I didn’t tell you. The future needed him.” 

Peggy drops into a chair as she searches for the words, for a reaction,  _ any _ reaction. She settles for the one thing she can grab on to. “You find him?” 

Steve nods. 

“And he’s alright. He’s..happy?” 

“I hope so. It was his choice.” 

Peggy takes a deep breath, choked by rising tears. Then another. “Alright.” 

… 

“I thought you didn’t want to keep doing this.” 

Steve frowns at Howard. “What do you mean?” 

“Captain America. SHIELD. I thought you were retired.” 

“I am.” 

Howard rolls his eyes. “Then why were you interviewing recruits? And don’t think I didn’t notice you checking up on the Security Council either. They might be fooled by your simple man routine, but I’m not. What are you up to?” 

“It’s just a dinner party, Howard,” he says with a smile that’s as false as his statement.

Steve will be the first to admit he understands very little about time travel. Most of the references and explanations from Tony, Bruce, and Scott went over his head. Bucky liked to talk about those theories when they were younger, but it had all seemed so much simpler then.

He’s fairly certain since his conversation with Bucky that he was always in the past, which is why he didn’t think much of trying to prevent HYDRA from infiltrating SHIELD, including lightly interrogating the coworkers he meets. 

“Will the two of you stop it,” Peggy mutters as she joins them. “We’re honoring our new leadership today. We need to present a united front.” 

Howard rolls his eyes and Peggy narrows hers. 

“Do I need to get Maria over here?” 

Howard huffs. “Really? You going to call over my wife?” 

“Don’t test me, Howard.” 

“Fine. I’ll behave.” 

Peggy quirks an eyebrow at Steve. He nods. “Of course.” 

So far SHIELD is clean. 

… 

“You came by today. You’re so young.” 

Steve chuckles, squeezing his wife’s hand. “So foolish?” 

Peggy grins at him. “That too.” Her smile slides off after a beat. “Darling...what if I say the wrong thing? What if I tell him…” 

“You won’t.” 

“But how do you know?” 

Steve leans closer. “Because you never did before.” 

“You have too much faith,” she scolds. 

He shrugs. “It’s worked out so far.” 

Peggy can’t argue with that. 

… 

Steve stands in front of the Smithsonian display as the helicarriers fall from the sky and smiles at Bucky’s picture. Everyone else is out in the hall, face pressed to a glass window, racing outside, talking about terrorist attacks, but Steve just stares at the picture and clutches the dog tags around his neck. 

It’s time.

The soldier arrives two days later, cap pulled low over his face as he stands in the same place. Steve sidles up to him. They stare at the display in silence, the soldier leans away slightly, inching out of reach. 

“Harrumph,” Steve says to draw the man’s attention. “Damn shame if you ask me. Too many young men died in the war. In any war. This one here though used to live in my neighborhood. From Brooklyn. Used to tell stories ‘bout the kid down the block who became famous. Had a stuffed bear and everything.” 

The Soldier says nothing, but Steve can tell he has his attention. “I remember this one story about how he got his nickname…” 

… 

“You’re following me.” 

Steve stares into the face of the Soldier with more humanity in his eyes. They dance with blue in the same way they used to back in 1940. Steve grins at him. “What would give you that idea, son?” 

The Soldier is unimpressed. 

“Life is full of coincidences. Why, I remember this one time…” 

… 

“How’s our boy?” Peggy asks. 

Steve closes the first Harry Potter book. It’s their grandchildren’s favorite, which is why he rereads them on Peggy’s bad days. “He’s talking to me now, not just letting me yabber on like an old coot.” 

She smiles. “Progress.” 

“He’s still a jerk. Makes me work for it.” A year and half and he’s just starting to hold a conversation. 

“Good,” Peggy says firmly. “Someone should. He figure you out yet?”

Steve contemplates it. “No. I think not.” 

“In time.” Peggy smiles at him. “So, where are we?” 

Steve opens the book. “Human chess.” 

“Wonderful.” 

… 

The Soldier frowns at the old man in the marketplace. It’s been awhile. There’s something nagging his jumbled thoughts, but that’s nothing new to him. Bucky, James, the Soldier, jerk. There are lots of things he thinks are familiar. 

“I know you.” 

The man doesn’t startle, even though he couldn’t have heard Bucky approach. He just looks up and smiles. “Well, I certainly hope so. We’ve talked enough.” 

“Not just our talks,” Bucky says slowly. 

The man shrugs. “If you figure it out, let me know. Could be my memory’s going.” He cackles. “Don’t grow old, kid. You start to forget things.” 

Bucky laughs at the irony in that. His mind is swiss cheese. He’s pretty sure Mr. Carter here remembers more than he does. “Yeah, sure.” 

… 

Bucky is the one that drags his sorry butt to the long term care facility that houses a one Peggy Carter. Her room is easy to find, too easy, but then he supposes most people aren’t trying to kill Peggy now. She looks older, hair white and gray but she still looks lovely. 

He sits at the chair beside her bed and picks up the book that rests there. A receipt is stuffed in the pages as a bookmark. It’s folded into some complicated shape like Steve used to do. They had about seven books in their apartment and at least three different bookmarks to each book. He smiles at the first memory. 

“Sergeant Barnes?” 

He glances up in surprise. “Hey, Peg.” 

Her brow is furrowed. “What are you doing here, soldier? You’re out on mission. The train is on a tight schedule.” 

A train. Bucky has flashes of a snowy mountain, gunshots, and then just pain. “I think we make it.” 

She tilts her head at him. “I forgot something, didn’t I.” 

He smiles gently. “That’s okay. I forget things all the time.” 

Peggy nods in understanding. “It is a bother.” 

“Ain’t that the truth.” 

“I miss you, James,” Peggy whispers. “We both do.” 

He squeezes her hand. “Miss you too.” 

“Remember I love you. Til the end of the line.” 

He supposes she remembers that he’s dead now, so Bucky just holds her hand in silence until Peggy Carter drifts back off to sleep. He presses a kiss to her wrinkled forehead and then he slips back out the way he came.

… 

Steve finds Bucky right before the UN blows up and the manhunt starts working in small bodega. 

“You don’t even speak the language.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow, looking away from the orange package. “Who needs to? It’s sugar.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and starts to unload a box. He was across the store just a few minutes ago. He chose to come over here. “You’d make a terrible spy.” 

Steve chuckles. “So I’ve been told.” 

He examines the shelves in front of him. He didn’t lie earlier, he can tell what most of the stuff is from context clues, but can’t read a single label. Bucky stays there so Steve doesn’t move away. Content to just stay in his presence. Time is running out. Peggy is going to pass soon, and the Accords are around. He just had to see Bucky before all nasty brainwashing business rears its ugly head. 

“You knew me,” Bucky says quietly. “Before. That’s why you keep finding me.” 

Steve smiles softly. “That a hunch or a memory.” 

Bucky frowns. “I don’t know. Gets jumbled.” 

“That’s fine. My wife’s like that sometimes.” Steve smiles to be able to confess that to Bucky. “She’s in a bad spot now. This will be the last I see you for a bit. Take care of yourself, James.” 

As he walks away, he hears a muttered: “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

Steve smiles. As the door closes behind him, he whispers: “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

Steve doesn’t stick around to see if Bucky heard. He disappears into the crowd and heads for the nearest airport. The rest of his family needs him now.

… 

The memories return with the melting of the ice. Like it had never really melted before, just softened so some of the grass popped through. Now there’s nothing but grass, the odd flower, and one or two patches of dirt where the memories were literally burned away. 

Good or bad: he remembers. 

“How do you feel?” 

Bucky blinks at focuses on the teenager before him. “Did it work?’ 

“You doubt me, white wolf?” 

He frowns. “White wolf?” 

She shrugs. “I did what I could. The rest will heal with time.” 

He still doesn’t understand the nickname, but relief downs out the confusion. “Thank you, your highness.” 

She waves him off. “Call me Shuri. Any residual confusion? Coordination issues?” As she speaks, she waves a device in front of him and looks at her odd screen.

Bucky stands and staggers as he adjusts to his body’s center of balance. His arm is just a stump, which he vaguely remembers. He feels...lighter. “My arm.” 

“We removed what framing we could while you were under. It was a relic. Offensively so. I fixed it. Your new arm will be ready soon.” 

“Thank you.” 

“We would have let you sleep longer, but processing is important for mental health. You can’t just sleep it off. We have a hut for you. With goats.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “Goats?” 

“Hey, White Wolf, don’t look like that. They’re also for mental health.” 

Bucky blinks. 

“And then  _ when you’re ready _ you get the arm. Deal?” 

Bucky looks at the space where a metal arm used to drag him down. “I get to live in peace and all I have to do is take care of some goats.” 

Shuri grins at him. “We’ll take care of you Sergeant Barnes.” 

He smiles. “Alright.” 

… 

Bucky smiles when he comes back to the river to find an old man sitting outside his hut. Children’s laughter still echoes in his ears and he’s a little off balance from a bucket of water on one side and no arm on the other, but he’d recognize that straight posture anywhere. 

“Sick, hyped up on super serum, or older than sliced bread, you’re still a punk,” Bucky greets with narrowed eyes. 

Steve - wrinkles and all - smiles up at him. “So you figured it out.” 

“I remembered. Don’t know how, but I know you, Stevie.” He sets the bucket of water beside the fire and lowers himself to sit beside old man Steve. Bucky takes a moment to really look at the old man. 

It’s kind of funny because he’s wearing almost the same clothes young Steve wears when he’s not in his combat suit. He’s just older. The rough edges, the anger have been rubbed away. He’s no longer looking for a fight. He’s at peace. 

And he’s got a ring on his left hand. 

“Sorry about Peggy,” Bucky says finally. “Saw her once or twice.” 

Steve smiles. “She told me.” 

“So, what are we talking here? Time travel? Clones? Alternate dimensions?” 

The responding chuckle is heartbreakingly familiar. “Reading sci-fi books again, Buck?” 

“More like science books,” Bucky mutters. “But we’re in the future now and there are two of you so…” 

He lets the sentence hang and old Steve nods slowly. 

Bucky looks him over carefully. “I’d have to say time travel. If you were a clone, you wouldn’t have the same memories as the other you running around. Same with a dimension hopper. Wasn’t aware that there was the technology for that though and Shuri let’s me hang out in her lab.” 

Old Steve smiles. “You’ll know it when it happens.” 

“So what’s this? It feels like a goodbye.” Bucky glances sideways. 

“Things are going to get rough for a little while. I just wanted to check-in before...” Old Steve is resigned. He takes a deep breath and stares at the horizon. “I’m almost caught up.” 

Bucky purses his lips. “Rough, huh?” 

Steve reaches out and squeezes his hand. “You’ll get through it.” 

… 

It’s surreal. Sam’s had days where he still can’t believe that Steve Rogers asked him to take down HYDRA, where he can’t believe he’s an actual superhero, where he has to question his own sanity, but this takes the cake. 

Captain America just aged decades in a matter of seconds and handed him the the shield. It feels sacred, like someone just handed him the secret to eternal life. What is he supposed to do with it. He thought for sure it would go to Bucky, but the infuriating man just smirked at him. 

It’s all too much.

Sam sits on the bench and just stares at the shield, all polished so it shines in the sun. Behind them Bruce is still fussing with the machine. Beside him Steve - old and gray Steve - is staring out over the water with a content smile. Bucky moves around to sit on the other side of Sam, a smirk on his face. 

“I guess you’re caught up now,” Bucky says simply. 

The matter of fact tone shakes Sam from his dazed stare at the red, white, and blue metal. He looks from Bucky to old Steve. Bucky’s not surprised and suddenly it clicks into place. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

Bucky snorts. 

“On your left.” Old Steve chuckles. 

“You’re so slow, he’s doing laps around you in time,” Bucky teases. 

Sam glares. “Really, Terminator?” 

Bucky continues to chuckle at the joke. Sam wants to be angry, but his lips twist in amusement too. 

“You just have to be that extra, Rogers. Such a drama queen,” he commiserates with Bucky.

“Told ya he’s a punk.” 

“Nah, just decided to take the long way.” Steve winks at Bucky. “Besides, you don’t need me anymore. You’ve got this.” 

Sam nods and looks back at the shield. He really hopes Steve is right this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my take on what happened! Thanks for reading!


End file.
